


Pardus

by ImperialMint



Series: sun kicks the moon off the mountain [marcoace week 2015] [6]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit, Guilt, Light Angst, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-12 03:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15331164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialMint/pseuds/ImperialMint
Summary: After becoming the latest victim of the Fear-Fear Fruit, Ace has some tough truths to face up to. Good thing he's great at ignoring what he doesn't want to face!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Only what, 3 years late... it was originally plotted for the 2015 Marcoace week so it can stay in that collection! 
> 
> It's been 6 whole years since I started loving marcoace, and I still love them a ridiculous amount. Let's hope I stay good at balancing work and writing so I can finally crack out the ideas I have!
> 
> Thank you so much for all the support over the years, it's nice to be back and I hope you enjoy!! I should say as well that this story is completed so don't worry, you won't have to wait 4 years for the next chapter. 
> 
> A MASSIVE shout out to **lunarshores** too for being my constant companion and betaing my mess. Without her there would be no fic. Thank you!!
> 
> Another thing to add too:  
> Blackbeard stole the fruit and left except Thatch never died, Marineford happened except neither Ace nor Whitebeard died. Everyone still learnt from it and became stronger.

The entire crew fell silent at the man who had been shoved unceremoniously toward the centre of the ship. He looked haggard, as if someone had just dragged him from hell, and Ace winced at that thought. It was probably far more accurate than he thought.

It was his fault, of course. Weren’t things like this always Ace’s fault?

“I have the power of the fear-fear fruit!” a gravelly voice called, and Ace’s eyes flickered to the man who had just stabbed him and created this mess. “I can bring the fear of whoever I stab to life before their eyes!”

Ace gritted his jaw, forcing himself to keep breathing normally. He was fine and in complete control. If he told himself that enough times it was true, right?

The situation was a ridiculous one from the start. His division had been skimming past a small, supposedly lifeless archipelago when Blackbeard’s crew had tried it on. Ace, after realising Teach wasn’t there himself, had welcomed the fight alongside the rest of his crew, and they’d almost subdued the traitors. Until Mr Fear-fruit had showed up and stuck a weird sword through Ace’s stomach.

It hadn’t hurt and it hadn’t even bled, but something had oozed out of Ace and formed… well. A pretty huge fucking problem.

“Go back to your dickhead traitor of a captain!” one of Ace’s squad shouted, and Ace grinned. It didn’t quite break the panic he felt, but it was a good attempt.

“Let’s deal with our original problem first,” Ace said calmly, and his division wasted no time in evicting the Blackbeard pirates and dumping them overboard. Ace had no regrets as they sailed away, steadfastly ignoring the bigger problem that had taken residence quietly in the middle of the deck.

“Taichō,” Deuce said, arms crossed over his chest. Ace knew his gaze was settled on their guest, and he could hear the tight concern in Deuce’s voice.

“We’re returning to the Moby Dick,” Ace said firmly, his words carrying across the deck. “Oyaji will deal with this issue.”

With that, Ace turned to head to the captain’s cabin, ignoring all of his problems. If he didn’t have to see his greatest fear pondering what situation he’d found himself in, then Ace could definitely ignore the fact that the long-dead Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, had just oozed out of him and was now chilling on his ship.

It worked, remarkably, and Ace was able to remain inside the ship until the call they were about to dock with the Moby Dick came. As he emerged outside, Ace was pleased to see Roger in chains, though he knew they were more of a formality than something to actually stop Roger doing anything.

“From what we’ve managed to find out, he’s the real deal. He remembers dying, too,” Deuce said quietly as he came to stand beside Ace. “Everyone’s curious, but no one’s speaking to him. And he’s sure as hell not giving much out.”

Ace nodded slowly, eyes trained on the Moby Dick. He could see Whitebeard, and Ace bit the inside of his cheek. Not everyone knew he was Roger’s son, and Ace didn’t know how he was going to get out of this situation without his biggest fear being revealed to the world.

“Keep him on this ship while I go and talk to Oyaji,” Ace said, not waiting for Deuce to reply before he was jumping across one of the planks that had just set down between the Moby Dick and their ship.

Ignoring the cheers and well-wishes of the main crew, Ace made a beeline to Whitebeard. There was an intensity in his eyes he thought everyone could see, for everyone stepped further and further back as Ace grew closer to Whitebeard.

“He’s on the ship,” Ace rushed out, heart pounding in his chest. He had to acknowledge it now. “One of Teach’s men. He had a power, to create what we fear the most. He brought that man back.”

Beside Whitebeard, Marco had been watching calmly, but he moved off quickly at Ace’s words. Whitebeard was silent until Marco returned a few moments later, mouth set in a determined line.

“He’s flesh and blood, exactly the same as he was the last time we saw him alive,” Marco confirmed, and Ace closed his eyes. He was glad for the confirmation, even if it did churn his stomach.

“Bring him on board,” Whitebeard ordered, sitting higher in his seat and grinning. “I want to make sure Roger understands the position he is in. I’ve heard tales of the power used to return him to the world, and I believe we only need to deal with this for a few days.” Whitebeard looked to Ace, and there was something more there he wasn’t saying to the crew. Ace knew he’d find it out later, even if it set his nerves on edge.

Still chained, Gol D. Roger walked onto the Moby Dick as if he was entering a friend’s home. The smile on his face was broad, reminiscent of Luffy’s, if Ace be uncomfortably truthful, and he laughed as soon as he approached Whitebeard.

“I reckoned something was up with all the questions about what I remembered,” Roger said, shaking his head as he laughed. “I figure I’m here as a temporary thing, and not because I was wanted,” Roger said, and he shrugged.

“A cowardly traitor who almost murdered one of his brothers is the root of this,” Whitebeard said, waving his hand for the crew to disperse and leave them to it. “First and second division commanders will stay,” he commanded, and Ace relaxed as Whitebeard avoided using his name. Even if he had to put up with having the devil on the same ship as him, even for a few days, he never need know Ace was his son.

“I shall enjoy catching up with an old friend then,” Roger said, seating himself on the deck, sparing the smallest glance for Ace. “I remember Marco, but the second division commander is a new one. Strong though, he’d have made a fine addition to my own crew,” Roger said, winking at Ace.

He couldn’t afford to forget how to breathe, Ace reminded himself, shoulders tightening and back straightening. Whitebeard didn’t grace a reply, instead holding a hand up. It was clear what he wanted, and one of the crew members who had stayed on guard by the railings ran to fetch sake.

“It’s been a long while since we did this,” Whitebeard mused, three men laying out enough sake for the four of them.

Marco briefly met Ace’s eye as he moved to the deck, sitting down between Whitebeard and Roger. Ace had a choice to take the opposite side, to form a loose circle or to remain where he was. It was a no-brainer, and no one forced him to come and join them.

“It’s been 20 years, give or take,” Whitebeard said, taking a sip of his sake. Roger nodded solemnly, tapping his fingers against his knee. “The world has changed vastly. There’s a young upstart with a straw hat on the verge of taking your throne,” Whitebeard said, fond smile turning to Ace.

“If that is what my legacy is, I feel I should be proud.” Roger’s gaze drifted to Ace and he narrowed his eyes. “Is…”

“If you want to know something you have to ask,” Whitebeard replied, laughing and sloshing his sake everywhere. “I’m not a mind reader, Roger. Old age has caught up with me, finally.” He laughed again, and Ace heard Marco laugh too.

Gritting his teeth, Ace looked at Roger. Now he was here, Ace could see the similarity in the line of their jaw and the set of their eyes. The more he looked, the more he could find of himself in Roger, and the thought sickened him.

“I had a love,” Roger said, and Ace bit the inside of his cheek. His tongue filled with the taste of blood, and then the soothe of his fire, and he fought to control his frown. “Portgas D. Rouge. Do you know…?”

Whitebeard set his sake down heavily.

“The marines went mad when you died,” he said gently, as if it was the navy’s doing that Ace killed his mother. “Their hunts were ruthless and endless, trying to discover even a hint of a connection to you.”

Even so, Ace could still see the hope on Roger’s face, a small sliver that perhaps Whitebeard was about to say Rouge made it.

“Rouge died,” Whitebeard said, voice low. There was silence for a moment and then Roger spoke, voice strong.

“And the child?” he asked, and Ace exhaled sharply. He didn’t dare look at Roger, instead turning his eyes to the deck. No one said anything for a long while, and then there was a noise.

Looking up, Ace saw Roger had moved to standing, as had Marco. His shoulders were relaxed, but Ace knew him well. Marco was prepared to strike should Roger try anything, and his body language suggested he was damn well about to try.

“Did my child make it?” Roger demanded, voice low, and Ace understood the decades of fear and hatred.

Here, on the deck of his home, stood a man who, with his voice alone, promised destruction if he did not get an answer. Roger would tear the Moby Dick apart if he thought it would get him the answer he wanted, and Ace shifted his feet apart, ready to jump into action should he need to.

“I do not know,” Whitebeard said, tilting his head. The skies above them, already peppered with clouds, began to bloom into storm. “I’m sure the marines would have celebrated the death and victimised the child’s life, yet no one has heard of such a thing.”

Roger brought a hand up to his chin.

“You mentioned an upstart,” Roger said, and Ace winced at the clear hope in his tone. “With a hat. Surely-“

“Monkey D. Luffy is not your son,” Ace said, balling his hands into fists and taking a deep breath. He met Roger’s gaze calmly. “Son of Dragon, grandson of Garp.”

“Garp’s grandson is aiming for the title of the Pirate King?” Roger said, eyes wide. He broke into laughter, slapping his thigh and shaking his head. “I bet he loved that one,” he muttered, and Ace took a step back, the situation slipping away from discomfort.

“I hear it’s one of your youngsters who set him on that path too, Shanks,” Marco said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not that he’s done too badly for himself either.”

The conversation drifted to discussing the politics of the six current rulers of the sea, the government and the turning of the generations some two years ago at Marineford.

“We had a small altercation,” Whitebeard said, smiling fondly at Ace.

It had been a blip, a ruthless mistake Ace had learnt from, but he’d somehow made it through the war at Marineford. Teach had come too late to fight, Shanks appearing as Ace had been freed, and the Whitebeard pirates had practically barrelled Ace up into a waiting submarine, healing the splattering of magma on his chest. He’d barely had time to think between fighting back-to-back with Luffy and sitting down on a doctor’s bed, and all Ace really remembered between the end of the war and returning home was Luffy’s hand in his as they pledged to get stronger.

“For now, you can remain on the ship. We don’t believe you will be with us for too long,” Whitebeard said, leaning forwards in his seat, “and we’d rather not have this get out to the public.”

“Understandable,” Roger said, nodding to both Marco and Ace. “Is there somewhere I can freshen up? And am I to be held prisoner?”

Whitebeard rolled his eyes.

“You always did have a tendency for the dramatic,” he sighed, and Ace had confirmation from who he’d inherited that from then. “You’re free to wander the ship as much as you want. I’d ask you to not wear your coat if I thought you’d listen, but you’ll do what you want regardless. If you want to lurk in your room all the time reading papers, please do so.”

Whitebeard met Ace’s gaze and inclined his head slowly. “Marco will take you to your room now.”

They left rather abruptly, Marco waving a hand here or there, update Roger to the changes on the Moby Dick no doubt. Ace took a moment to move, stepping up beside Whitebeard.

“You have my permission to stay inside the entire time he is here, or even leave the ship. Roger is my responsibility, son, I want you to know that.” Whitebeard clapped a heavy hand down on Ace’s shoulder.

“We’ll see,” Ace muttered, cheeks heating up as he thought about what he might need to do. “But I don’t think he’ll leave unless I stop being afraid of him.”

Ace waited, hoping Whitebeard had an answer, a solution, to that. He remained silent, and Ace sighed.

“It’s not going to happen,” Ace admitted, and Whitebeard hummed.

“Sometimes things surprise you,” he commented, and Ace looked out to the ocean, exhaustion creeping up on him.

“I’m going to bed,” Ace said softly, passing people as they began to emerge on deck once more, gathering around Whitebeard for an explanation. Thank fuck Ace didn’t have to come up with some weird excuse. Sometimes the truth was stranger than a lie.

.

“You can’t keep this up,” came the voice as soon as Ace opened the door. He rolled his eyes and stepped back, shrugging his shoulders as Marco sighed and entered, food tray balanced on one hand.

“I can and I will,” Ace said, clearing a few papers from his desk. “Oyaji said I could, and you’re not even attempting to starve me out.”

 

Marco snorted. “As if I could ever,” he mumbled, sitting down in the lone chair Ace owned.

“You withheld food the last time Thatch fucked with your bathroom products,” Ace pointed out, settling down on the floor and holding his hand out for Marco to pass his dinner down to him.

“That was different,” Marco said, handing over curry and rice. “I know you set Thatch up and the hair removal cream stank so it never would have worked anyway.”

Ace shrugged. “You did have a bald spot,” he said, grinning as Marco reached a hand up to rub the back of his head.

“Shut it,” he commented, smiling and turning in his seat until he was looking down at Ace. “You know you’re going to have to face him sometime. He spends most of the day on deck chatting with Oyaji, but he’s always on the lookout. I think he’s hoping his crew are on their way to get him, even if he knows logically that’s impossible.”

“Why don’t we just dump him at  Saobody . I bet Rayleigh would love that,” Ace muttered, earning himself a light kick to the ankle.

“I’m serious, Ace. He’s asked about you a few times, he can see some kind of connection there.” Marco took a bite of his food as Ace’s appetite soured. He wasn’t stupid enough to turn down a meal even if he wasn’t hungry.

“I’m not saying you should tell him the truth, but if getting rid of him need you to be less afraid of him, he’s not going away until you talk to him,” Marco said, waving a spoon in Ace’s general direction. A grain of rice landed on Ace’s knee, and he closed his eyes, wrinkling his nose.

“I know,” he said softly. “I know you’re right, and I know I need to at least say hi or some shit to him, but…” Ace trailed off, flicking the grain of rice from his knee.

“If you want someone there,” Marco started, but Ace shook his head.

“Unless you can just dispose of him, I think we have to do it alone.” Ace pulled a face and Marco grinned. “Which is disgusting.”

“Yeah,” Marco said, a fond look in his eye. Ace tilted his head, trying to read his expression and failing. “Now eat your dinner.”

Nodding, Ace tucked in. He knew what he needed to do, had been aware of the steps he needed to take since holing himself away two days ago, but still didn’t think he could do it. Perhaps tomorrow. Or perhaps next week. Or perhaps-

“Stop thinking and just eat,” Marco ordered, and who was Ace to argue with that.

.

It wasn’t quite as close to next week as Ace would have liked before he spoke to Roger. Or, more correctly, when Roger approached him. All intelligence had suggested Roger would be occupied below deck early afternoon, so Ace had broken his stir-crazy vigil in his room and walked out on deck. No one had batted an eyelid, people did often vanish for longer periods of time on the Moby Dick – one time, Ace didn’t see Marco for 13 days, which was an accomplishment in itself considering he knew for a fact Marco was on the ship, just not where.

“You’re a tricky man to pin down,” Roger said, a newspaper in hand and a smile on his face as he joined Ace at the viewing deck at the front of the ship.

Ace glanced around. The nearest person was a good few hundred metres away, and Ace’s eyes widened to the sea in desperation. Why now? He had settled himself to never speak to Roger at all, and here the world was throwing Roger at him like it was nothing.

“Am I?” Ace replied, leaning on the railing and staring out to the open sea. “I’ve been busy.”

Roger hummed, stepping up beside Ace and opened his newspaper. Resisting the urge to glance was hard, but Ace managed. If Roger was here to ask him something, he could damned well ask him.

“You know this Monkey D. Luffy?” he asked, shoving the newspaper under Ace’s nose.

The article was another dissection of the Strawhat pirates and their escapades on Wano, and Ace smiled. He had no idea what Luffy was up to this time, but the marines looked as if they were trying to cover their asses (as per usual) and make whatever Luffy had done seem trivial.

“He’s my brother,” Ace said, unable to lie about that. He’d never deny Luffy his brother, not even to the devil himself.

“Should I address you as Monkey D. Second-Division-Commander?” Roger said, laughing loudly. Ace closed the newspaper, very aware that Roger must at least suspect something if he was here. He opened his mouth to reply, but Roger waved his hand and shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter. I wanted to ask you in private if you knew… If, by any chance, Garp had another grandkid. Or something like that. Someone older than you by a couple of years.” Roger’s voice was low, only for them despite there not being any other humans nearby.

A pair of gulls flew over them and Ace inhaled sharply. Despite being told there was no child, Roger was still hoping, still clinging on. There was a tinge of desperation to his words, and Ace exhaled a little, breathing increasing as he wondered if he could do it. Could he accept himself and reveal himself to his father? Could he cross that gap and take the plunge, open himself up to a man who had caused him so much pain and fright?

No, was the answer in short.

“Why would I know something like that,” Ace said, snorting lightly, trying to make light of everything. If he didn’t take this seriously he wouldn’t get hurt.

“Because you said you were Garp’s grandkid’s brother. You have to know something.” Roger sounded so small and unlike the legendary man Ace had grown to fear. He turned, looking at Roger.

All his life, Ace had thought of Roger as this monster, a shadow he would forever be stuck in. He knew all the tales of grandeur and adventure Roger had left behind. He knew better the stories of horror and savagery from those who considered Roger an enemy. Ace had grown up with those echoes in his head, Roger’s terrible ghost, and he would never be able to shake that.

But looking at Roger now, all of that fell away. Ace couldn’t see the monster who had haunted him his entire life, nor could he even see the (revived) legend of the Pirate King. All he could see was a man who had been dumped in a world that was no longer even close to what he remembered. Roger, for all his bravado and comfort with Whitebeard and in front of the crew, was just a lonely man who had learned he’d lost an awful lot.

Maybe it was selfish of Ace, but he wanted Roger to suffer. It was a different kind of pain to what Ace had suffered, but that didn’t matter. Roger had haunted him his entire life, and with a few words Ace could heal the pain Roger felt. He wasn’t that good of a person.

“It doesn’t matter who they are or where they are. I never wanted to leave Rouge and our child, and I thought they would be safe where they were. They were supposed to be…” Roger took a deep breath and Ace’s heart pounded against his chest.

Never in any stories of bravado or hatred had Ace ever really thought of Roger as an actual person. And perhaps he could have grown to like him if Ace hadn’t had the childhood he did, and perhaps in that circumstance he’d be kinder.

“I have duties to attend to,” Ace said, pushing away from the side and leaving Roger alone. As he began descending to the main deck, he glanced over his shoulder and felt his gut tighten at the sight of Roger, alone and looking so small against the horizon.

He deserved it, Ace told himself. Roger deserved it.

.

Ace heaved a sigh as he followed Marco into the ship’s archive. His fingers trailed against folders containing information on every member of the Whitebeard pirates, and their extended allies and enemies, wading deeper through the stacks until Marco nodded to the shelf of news article archives.

“I never even knew we had so much paper on the ship,” Ace mumbled, and Marco laughed.

“You’re not an idiot but if you came down here for fun I’d be worried,” Marco said, clapping Ace on the shoulder. “Are you ready to reveal your master plan?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Ace replied, raising an eyebrow and smiling. Marco didn’t buy it for a moment, shaking his head and grabbing a folder from two years and three months ago. Bingo.

“How the hell do you do that,” Ace said, running a hand over his face.

“I gained unparalleled knowledge when I ate my devil fruit,” Marco said simply, and Ace barked out a laugh.

“Give that here,” he said, taking the Marineford folder from Marco’s hand. “And I know that’s a lie because I know you can’t use a can opener to save your life.”

Marco sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest. There was a twinkle in his eye, and Ace smiled softly, looking down.

“I appreciate this, you know,” he said softly. “You’re always there for me, right from the start. And with this… I know you’ve been trying to keep Roger occupied the best you can.”

“I’m just trying to help you, Ace,” Marco said gently. He nodded for Ace to follow him as he moved to the small corner table at the end of the shelving row. There was a solitary chair and Marco pulled it out for him, pushing Ace into it.

“Roger is here because of some asshole with a crappy power. If I’d been in your shoes and it was my worst fear in front of me, I wouldn’t be able to stay cool.” Marco gave a lopsided smile. “It’s the least I can do. Blame the doctor in me.”

Ace rolled his eyes.

“Sure,” he said, though he made sure Marco knew he didn’t mean it. It wasn’t just an urge to be a good doctor that had Marco helping him all the time, Ace was sure. He just had no idea what else it could be, not yet.

He flicked through the papers until he found the one he wanted, the notice of his capture. The headline printed his name above an impressive headshot of him bloodied and bruised, locked up in Impel Down. It was an unmistakable admission of who he was, and Ace nodded.

“I wanted to leave him in the dark,” Ace said, closing the folder and passing it to Marco’s waiting hand. Marco moved to file it as Ace smoothed over the paper he’d picked out. “I thought that maybe he deserved to suffer.”

The folder made a muffled thud as it slid back into place and Ace stared up at the wood panels of the wall.

“I’m scared of it going well. I’m scared of it going wrong. I’m scared of him,” Ace sad, and he turned as Marco came to stand next to him, gentle look on his face.

“But I can’t keep it from him, and I can’t keep hiding. I did enough of that when I was a kid, and maybe this way I’ll get the answers I need.” Ace tilted his head back until he could see Marco, and he smiled.

“You could still do it for me if you wanted,” Ace said gleefully, and Marco rolled his eyes.

“Just do it now before you lose your confidence,” Marco said, turning to leave the archive. “And if you want my advice? Lose the shirt. We’ve all decided you look weird in one when we’re not on a winter island.”

Ace laughed, sitting back in his chair and staring at the paper, summoning the nerve to approach Roger and tell him the truth.

It didn’t happen that night.

.

For whatever reason, everyone seemed to have picked up on the fact that Ace wasn’t using his name recently,  and so when he emerged on deck bright and early, his greetings were very neutral despite the fact he had taken Marco’s advice and foregone a shirt. Ace might have liked to think it was for aesthetic purposes, however the tattoo on his arm was a pretty massive give away. A picture said a thousand words, as the saying went, and Ace wasn’t 100% sure he’d be able to talk to Roger without hurling in his face.

He’d skipped breakfast for alarming yet practical reasons.

Gritting his teeth and squaring his shoulders, Ace walked across the deck, going about his business as usual. He was greeted with smiles and nods, everyone sliding into place in the late morning run of the ship. It felt normal. It felt good. It felt pre-Roger, and Ace almost forgot why he was here right now and not down in the doctor’s bay with some small irritation or offer to test the limits of his devil fruit powers for research.

There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere, as if a storm had spread above the ship. Physically above there was nothing but clear skies, and Ace knew Roger had clocked him and seen the mark on his arm. It wouldn’t be long before Ace was under scrutiny, and he considered his options. He could do this here, in full public view, or he could take himself to the front of the ship and do it quietly, staring out to sea.

Ace walked slowly. It was a while before he heard a resounding thud of someone following him, but follow Roger did. His footsteps were a reassurance, and Ace felt himself flinch at the thought that anything of Roger could be a reassurance. This was a man he hated more than anything, more than Blackbeard and more than the world government; there was nothing reassuring about him.

They went as far as they could, right at the tip of the Moby Dick’s head. Dolphins were jumping out of the water around them, and Ace used them as a distraction until Roger paused beside him, silent and still.

For a man with so much energy, there was something calming about Roger when he chose it. He was like the ocean itself, chaotic and calming all at once, and even though Ace hated him with every cell in his body, he could understand why Roger was both loved and hated with equal passion.

There was no reason to draw the entire situation out, so Ace reached for his back pocket, pulling the newspaper out. He handed it silently to Roger and waited.

There was a moment of confused silence and a rustle of paper as Roger opened it. There was a pause, and Ace watched the sun glitter off the waves, heart pounding and gut churning. He’d done it. Admitted his weakness, admitted who he was to the one person he feared most of all.

There was no relief, though Ace hadn’t expected there to be.  He felt sick and wanted to snatch the paper back, laugh this all off as a joke, but he couldn’t. He’d opened this can of worms now and had to face his consequences.

“I don’t understand,” Roger said, voice low. His hands gripped the newspaper tightly, creasing it.

“Why?” Ace blurted, eyes skipping from Roger to the ocean and back to Roger again.

“I don’t understand,” Roger repeated, and Ace’s courage wobbled. He turned to face Roger ever so slightly, cheeks flushing as he attempted to explain.

“That’s… that. There was a big war, Marineford? Maybe Oyaji explained it to you, I thought he did,” Ace said, and he knew that he was beginning to ramble, that perhaps he was just a little more than off track, but there was no stopping him. “Well that happened, loads of people there including Luffy, it wasn’t great and-“

“Are you trying to tell me that your name is Ace?” Roger cut in, and Ace’s jaw clicked shut. His cheeks were burning, not quite literally but Ace figured if this carried on for much longer they would be, and he avoided meeting Roger’s eyes.

“I am Portgas D. Ace, captain of the Whitebeard pirates’ second division.” Ace’s voice didn’t waver once, something he was proud of. He felt an odd stillness settle over him, and he looked up, meeting the eyes of a man who had haunted him for so long.

He looked desperate, was the first thing that Ace thought, and he dipped his head, unsure yet again how to deal with a man who was so disconnected from the Roger he had in his head.

“She kept you safe,” Roger breathed, the newspaper falling to the wind and sea as Roger let go. His hands moved almost as if to grab Ace and hold him, but Roger collected himself at the last moment. Ace wasn’t his, would never be his, and Roger knew that.

“Jii-chan told me my mother carried me for almost two years,” Ace said quietly. “It killed her. I killed-“

“Ace,” Roger cut in, marvelling at the name, eyes filling with tears. He made no attempt to wipe his cheeks as water streamed down them, and Ace shifted uncomfortably, unsure what he should do.

“I never said it to Rouge, but I wanted you to be a boy,” Roger said, and one hand did come up to wipe his eyes, though it just seemed to spur more tears on. “She kept you safe, my son-“

“Don’t,” Ace barked out quickly, his skin crawling with the word Roger had said. “There is one thing I will never be, and that is your son.”

Strangely, Roger’s smile only widened. He wiped his cheeks and nodded, as if he completely understood Ace and everything about it.

“I didn’t get the impression you enjoyed my company,” Roger said frankly. “But I’m not here to become your father. Truth be told, I don’t think I would have made a good father even if I’d had the chance.”

Ace turned away from Roger to look back out at the sea. He allowed himself a tight smile, some weight lifting from him.

“I am so happy you’ve found your family,” Roger said quietly, and Ace couldn’t detect any amount of bitterness or upset that Ace had his own life. “They love you unconditionally, would do anything for you. I’d say that’s the kind of people the Whitebeard pirates are, but we all know Whitebeard can be an insufferable dick when he wants to be.”

Roger clapped his shoulder. Ace cringed, but when Roger made no move to take his hand away, he relaxed somewhat, dipping his shoulder down.

“Your mother loved you so much,” Roger said, and Ace swallowed thickly, shaking his head.

“Don’t. Please,” Ace said, closing his eyes. “This was hard enough as it was. I don’t want to hear about… her. Not yet.”

Roger fell silent, his hand falling from Ace’s shoulder.

“Of course,” he murmured, running his hands over his face and laughing. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen. If you never want to see my face again, I’ll stay away from you. I’m just glad you’re here.” Roger smiled, eyes watery again.

He left slowly, as if Roger wanted Ace to call him back, but Ace let him go. He’d done it, admitted to his worst fear who he was and their relationship. He’d accepted his weakness, his kindness, and Roger was still here. Ace hadn’t expected for him to vanish the moment their relationship was revealed, but he’d hoped that something might click, that he’d feel something that showed Roger would go back to the darkness he had come from.

Ace hadn’t felt anything other than a slight twinge of relief, and even greater fear. Instead of solving his problem, Ace felt like he had doubled it. He sighed, collapsed over the railing, and then ran his hand through his hair, rolling his eyes.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered, turning to head back into the depths of the ship. There was someone who would be able to help him.


	2. Chapter 2

A breeze rolled down the corridor of the first division’s domain, and Ace inhaled the smell of fresh disinfectant and sea salt. He passed by one of the recovery rooms and a blast of strawberry scent burst from the room. One of the patients – and Ace had no idea who, their entire head was bandaged – gave a sheepish laugh, blowing bubbles from an evidently strawberry soap-water bucket, entertaining the other patients in the ward.

Heading towards the end of the corridor, Ace bumped into one of the nurses as she exited the room he wanted. She smiled over her shoulder, crossing her arms over her chest when she realised who Ace was.

“You ignored our request to check you over following your last mission,” Hotaru said, raising an eyebrow. “If you’ve got internal bleeding and die, don’t blame us.”

“I’d be dead anyway,” Ace mumbled, and Hotaru rolled her eyes, stepping out of the doorway.

“All I’m saying is don’t be a stranger. We’ve even got lollipops back in stock, limited to our favourite patients.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Ace sighed.

“Fine. Book an appointment for me later. I know you just want to admire my muscles,” Ace said with a wink, knowing full well the male form in all its glory was the last thing Hotaru was interested in.

“I think I’ll save that for someone else,” she commented, moving off down the hall, and Ace frowned, not fully understanding what she meant.

He entered Marco’s office, making his way to the large sofa at the back of the room. Three other nurses were gathered around Marco’s table, and they all waved at Ace as he passed them, used to this routine.

“We’re trying to liaise with the greenhouse to move some of the more delicate plants to a safer place, but they’re being difficult,” Lily said, tapping a sheet of paper she’d set on Marco’s desk.

“I thought the navigators gave them shit last time we did this and ran low on painkillers?” Marco said, and Lily shrugged.

“Seems they forgot about that,” she said. “I’ll get one of the girls to yell at them if you want, I think we need you to scare the shit out of them, throw them overboard or drag them out for a fly, you know. Usual intimidation stuff.”

Ace zoned out of the conversation, laying back on the sofa with his legs outstretched before him. There was a gentle pat on his calf and Ace looked down, two gleaming eyes peering out of the darkness.

“Kotatsu!” Ace said, rolling onto the floor to play with the cat. “Is this where you left for last night?”

“I found him in here this morning. The door was still locked yet there he was. I don’t know if I should be impressed or concerned he bypassed the security on this room,” Marco said, pushing his glasses up to rest on the top of his head as he moved to join Ace, a bento in hand.

Kotatsu mewed pitifully, stretching his legs out and closing his eyes again, tail against Ace’s leg.

“No loyalty in that one,” Ace said, not meaning a word of it. He paused, not knowing how he could really approach what he wanted to say, and Marco sat beside him, glasses slipping down as he tucked into his bento.

“What can I say, he loves me,” Marco replied, scoffing down rice. Ace smiled and sat back on the sofa, exhaling loudly.

“So I told Roger,” he began, and Marco turned to look at him, chopsticks still raised to his mouth. “He cried.”

Marco swallowed, and Ace looked down, trying to play it cool. It wouldn’t work, he knew that; Marco knew him too well to even remotely think he could be okay.

“And he’s still here,” Ace continued, ignoring the pat of Kotatsu’s paw on his leg. Kotatsu knew what was up, maybe Ace should just set him on Roger and see how things went.

“That makes sense really,” Marco said, taking a bite of chicken and shrugging. “You’re not physically scared of Roger, it’s way more complex than that.”

Ace shifted on the sofa until he was half-slouched, half on the floor, a hand batting Kotatsu’s paw.

“That’s stupid,” he muttered, reaching for Kotatsu and pulling him out from under the sofa. He stretched his paws, batting Ace’s face as he adjusted himself, pooling in Ace’s lap and rolling so his belly was facing up, his prime sleeping position.

“If it was easy they would have just given us Roger’s wanted poster or something,” Marco said, and Ace sighed, lying flat on the floor as Kotatsu continued to rearrange his Ace-pillow. He now lay the entire length of Ace, head tucked under Ace’s chin.

“He wanted to talk about my mother,” Ace said, stroking Kotatsu gently. “And he admitted he probably would have been an awful father, but that he… he was happy I had my family here.”

Marco tapped Ace’s calf gently in solidarity, setting his chopsticks down. He lay on his side on the sofa with a groan, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.

“I know you don’t like to hear it, but Roger was – is – a good man at heart. He’s made choices and mistakes like the rest of us. I don’t think you need to try and build up any relationship with him, but take this as an opportunity to see that whatever shittiness you think he’s polluted you with isn’t anything near what you think.” Marco’s glasses slipped from the sofa, falling into Kotatsu’s mass of fur. Marco reached for them, stroking soft belly fur as Kotatsu stretched, blinking sleepily up at Marco as Ace hugged him, completely covered by his companion.

“I can’t help what I think of him,” Ace murmured, uneasiness brewing in him at he thought he needed to resolve all the issues he had with Roger to make him leave.

“I know,” Marco said calmly, and Ace looked up to see him looking down kindly. “No one would expect you to, but maybe realising Roger is flesh and blood like all of us will help. And once you have that sorted a little more, he’ll vanish back to where he was conjured from, and we’ll continue on as normal.”

Marco lifted his hand from Kotatsu. Ace had the urge to grab him and hold his hand, but he resisted, fingers digging into Kotatsu’s side a little more than he intended. Kotatsu wriggled, Ace let go, and the cat rolled off of Ace, stretching himself out and nosing his way out of the room. Probably to get his own lunch, Ace thought.

“It’s this kind of day I’d enjoy some dumbshit pirate fight,” Ace sighed, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“I’m no use to you today, we’re running tests on Roger. Before he was executed he had an illness,” Marco said, and Ace moved his arm away from his eyes to look up. “He asked if we could look into it. He doesn’t expect a cure, but he wanted us to try our hardest to give a concrete diagnosis and treatment in case we encounter it elsewhere.”

Ace smiled, not entirely convinced Roger had offered. That kind of puzzle was something Marco would enjoy.

“You just want to work out the mystery illness, don’t play coy,” Ace said, and Marco huffed a laugh, rolling onto his back. He seemed so tired, and Ace felt himself drifting off. It wasn’t uncommon to find Ace napping in Marco’s office, but it was a rare thing Marco fell asleep too.

Ace understood what he had to lose sleep over, but what was bothering Marco?

.

Things with Roger after that were civil yet stilted. Ace no longer kept himself to his rooms, and Roger made no attempt to change the small routine he’d made for himself. Ace even noted that Roger’s time with Whitebeard seemed good for them both, reminiscing and puzzling over stories from their past, even solving some of the mysteries Roger had left behind when he died.

“Tell me about this young challenger then,” Roger said one day as Ace was passing, a rope slung over his shoulder. He came to a complete standstill, glanced at Whitebeard, and sighed, waving another crewman over to take his rope.

“I can tell you anything and everything about Luffy,” Ace said with a smile, and he did, hardly letting Roger get any word in edgeways. He barely noticed when plates of food were set before the three of them, and it wasn’t until Marco was adjusting Whitebeard’s medication that Ace paused to inhale food.

“You sound like a great big brother,” Roger commented, but before Ace could register how he felt about that, Roger was turning to Whitebeard. “Does it bother you one of your sons is rooting for another contender to become the Pirate King?” he said, and Ace felt a warm glow at the reference to him being Whitebeard’s son.

“Look at me Roger,” Whitebeard said with a loud laugh. “Whatever my children like to believe, the next war is likely to be the end of me. I’m old, I’ve had my time, and while I certainly won’t give up without a damned good fight, I don’t need or want the burden of being the Pirate King.”

He drank from his tankard, smiling down at Ace.

“My goal was never to rule these seas, no matter what people say about me. I wanted a family, and look what I got.” Whitebeard slopped his drink all over Marco as he opened his arms, and Marco turned around, arms crossing over his chest.

“You’ll get Nurse Ame looking after you tomorrow if you get me again,” Marco commented dryly, and Whitebeard raised an eyebrow. Ame was famous for her brute strength and no bullshit attitude. Last time she’d been assigned Whitebeard duty she’d hoisted him over one shoulder and taken him to his room during a particularly cold snap of weather, despite Whitebeard’s best efforts to stop her without resorting to maximum damage.

“Sorry son,” Whitebeard said, and Marco finished up with the IV bags, coming to sit on the deck beside Ace. He nabbed a chicken drumstick from Ace’s plate, slapping the almost-empty bags down between them.

“What he’s not saying but we all know is that if Straw Hat needs our help, we’ll be there for him,” Marco added, smiling at Ace and taking a bite of chicken.

It was a few days later that Ace and Roger had their first conversation alone since Ace had spilt the truth about his identity. He’d been heading to the second crow’s nest for some quiet; Marco was hands deep in someone’s leg, trying to salvage the consequence of a stupid bet, and any other commander he’d seek for peaceful company was off the ship. His own division had made it clear they wanted peace from Ace, and so here he was in the crow’s nest.

It was the oldest of all their crows nests, a rickety thing that was just about large enough for four people. It was the only one that had never been fully destroyed, and showed it. It was cold and, when it rained, wet, but it was peaceful, and Ace always came here to think when he wanted to be under the stars.

Except today, someone was already there, staring out at the sea as the moon shone down.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Ace said, nerves creeping up at the thought of spending time with Roger. He needed to do it, though, and it was a bitch of a climb to just turn back around and go down.

Roger shook his head, seeming much melancholier than Ace had ever seen him before. Ace clambered in, sighing as he brushed invisible dust from his knees.

“So,” Ace said, patting his knees as he sat down. He might have originally come up here for silence, but talking with Roger was what he should be doing, right? That kind of thing would cure his problem, make Roger go away, and Ace could get on with his life.

“I don’t want to push my luck,” Roger said quietly, and Ace recognised that tone straight away. Almost everyone onboard the Moby Dick would recognise it, in fact, for it was the tone Ace used before he became a member of the Whitebeard Pirates. Well, he had to get his fair share of things from his dad, Ace admitted begrudgingly.

“I’d like to talk to you about why I feel how I do about you one day,” Ace said, the words a little jumbled as they flew from his mouth. “But for now you could tell me why you’re up here? Alone?”

Silence hit the crows nest for a handful of minutes, long enough for Ace to consider leaving Roger to it. He waited and waited, and then Roger finally inhaled deeply, turning away from the sea and to face Ace.

“It’s your mother’s birthday today,” Roger said gently, and Ace blinked. That was the last possibility he’d considered, and he looked down at his hands. They weren’t shaking, and his stomach wasn’t churned into knots. He hadn’t set anything on fire, nor did Ace feel like he was about to lose himself to his temper.

“You don’t have to, but I’d like to hear about her,” Ace said softly, glancing at Roger in time to see his trademark smile split his mouth wide. There was joy in Roger’s eyes, a happiness that he could share memories of someone he loved, and Ace settled in to hear about his mother.

“She deserved the world,” Roger said, a bitter smile on his face as he sank back in his chair. “I was foolish to think I could ever give her a fragment of what she deserved, but she chose me all the same.”

He turned to look at Ace, eyes bright. “You remind me so much of her. You did before you told me your identity, but I passed it off as a fluke. She gave me so much, she was so beautiful and…” Roger inhaled sharply and Ace looked down, aware of the tears streaming down Roger’s cheeks.

“I couldn’t give her even a fragment of what she deserved, and even after I was gone she gave me such a precious gift,” Roger said, and Ace stiffened, knowing he was this gift. Thankfully Roger didn’t dwell on the subject. “She used to love the sun setting over the sea. It was her favourite time of day, and she’d always be waiting for me, no matter when we showed up.”

Ace nodded slowly, trying to imagine what his parents’ lives could have been like.

“When we knew you existed, she would take you to watch the sun setting every night. She’d always be out there, talking to you and telling you these amazing stories of the kind of person you could be. Rouge had uttermost faith you were going to do incredible things, and I know she wasn’t wrong.” Roger paused, and Ace felt himself tense, uncertain what was going to happen next.

“She loved you so much, Ace. She would be so proud to see her son here today. I’m sorry it was me who was brought back and not her… you both deserved to have each other.” Roger looked away as Ace’s stomach dropped, his eyes filling with tears at the thought his mother, a woman he had always tried to look up to and felt he failed, loved him, was proud of him.

“I did a lot of bad by you and Rouge,” Roger said, resting an arm on the railing and looking out to sea again. “I thought Garp was enough to keep the both of you safe. I’m sorry I took your mother from you.”

Shock poured over Ace like cold seawater, so much so that he stood, shaking his head. Roger looked at him sharply, confusion evident on his face.

“I was the one who killed her,” Ace blurted out, hands clenching into fists. He didn’t know why he was saying it, why he couldn’t let Roger just take the blame, but he needed to say it. He couldn’t hide this truth, at least not to Roger.

The reaction Ace received wasn’t the one he was expecting. Instead of an understanding nod, Roger’s face clouded with fury and sorrow. He looked down, hands trembling, and Ace did not understand at all.

“Ace,” Roger said, and his voice was soft, a direct contrast to his body language. “Ace, no, don’t think that ever, you can’t,” Roger continued, and Ace narrowed his eyes, sitting back down hesitantly.

“It’s the truth. I killed her,” Ace repeated, the words numb even to him. It was something he’d always known, back with Sabo and Luffy, the three of them shrugging at Dadan whenever the word mother was brought up. None of them knew what that meant, but Ace had always known the reason he never had one.

“No,” Roger said firmly, shifting forwards until he was facing Ace, knees almost touching. “Ace, if anyone was to blame for Rouge’s death then it was me. She knew the risks even when I was alive, and I knew that if anything was to happen to you, it would devastate her.”

Ace’s eyes roamed the crows nest, failing to find a landmark he could focus on. Instead he turned to Roger’s dark eyes, flinching at the intensity and honesty he could see in them.

“I always said that Rouge was the love of my life. She was above the sea, above the adventure, above One Piece and the Pirate King. She was mine, I was hers, but as soon as she told me she was pregnant, I knew she would never love me the way she loved our child. The love we shared was nothing,  _ nothing,  _ compared to our love for you,” Roger said, and Ace shook his head, looking down.

“You have no idea how special you are, do you?” Roger asked quietly, and Ace took a moment to breathe before he looked up. There was nothing but raw honesty on Roger’s face, and Ace shook his head a little.

“The next Pirate King and Whitebeard himself waged a war to get you back, and they succeeded. You survived a purge because your mother loved you so much she defied biology to keep you safe. You accepted me here even though you have no reason to, and you’re here tonight listening to me say this,” Roger smiled, a tentative thing that Ace felt was trying to say more than words. He swallowed, throat dry, and knew he couldn’t do this anymore.

“That’s great,” Ace said hurriedly, standing and moving towards the ladder. Roger let him go without another word, but Ace could feel the sad look he levelled down as Ace moved away, and Ace gritted his jaw, trying to concentrate on moving down and down and away.

No one stopped him as he moved to his room, and Ace fell down on his bed, lying there trying to turn his brain off. It didn’t work, of course it didn’t, and he groaned into the sheets.

How dare Roger come in and tell Ace all that shit? Rouge had loved him more than anything and deserved to be the one brought back to see Ace? Bullshit. Why would she want to see her murderer, son or otherwise? And Roger, how did he get off with telling Ace he was loved and everything should have been different? Ace had always known it should have been different, from being beaten black and blue when he was a kid to every night onboard the Moby Dick still questioning whether he deserved to be here.

Ace sighed and sat up, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. It was dark in his room but the moon was full and cast ethereal light across Ace’s space. His mind bubbled with thoughts, and Ace tried to soak in the moonlight, hoping that perhaps it had seen enough of this world to give him some wisdom.

It wasn’t any help, but Ace knew something that would help.

There were many people onboard that Ace turned to for help, but the numbers dwindled a little when he thought about waking someone this late to only a handful, and even fewer he’d want to discuss such sensitive subjects with. There were two people, realistically, Ace felt comfortable divulging these parts of himself to, and one of them needed his rest. Ace wouldn’t trouble Whitebeard with this, not when he was always Ace’s second choice anyway.

Aside from general guard duty, there was only one other division that kept a strict schedule regardless of the time of day. As Ace headed to Marco’s room, set back just a few doors down from the entrance to the hospital, he met a few tired faces and frazzled nurses. One stopped for a moment to brief Ace on the slight situation that had unfurled in the waiting room, and to remind him he had a check up in a few days, but that was the only interaction Ace received on his travels.

It was selfish of him to wake Marco, Ace knew, and a month ago he’d never have dreamt of waking Marco just to talk about feelings.  A month ago, Roger was a foggy memory, and Ace took a deep breath as he knocked twice on the door in front of him.

Marco opened it a moment later, bleary eyed and scrabbling a dressing gown around himself.

“Is everything okay?” he rushed out, running a hand through his messy hair, blinking in attempt to shake his slumber.

“It’s fine, everyone’s good, it’s… a personal reason. I’m sorry,” Ace said, biting the inside of his cheek and wondering if this had been a good idea after all. His problems could wait until the morning, he was being ridiculous and oh fuck he’d bothered Marco and-

“My door’s open,” Marco said, smiling sleepily and stepping back. “Let me grab some shorts and I’ll be back, it’s too damned hot for the robe.”

As Marco slipped into his private bathroom (a rarity even for a division commander), Ace looked around the room. A soft lamp had been hastily turned on, books that had been on the same bedside table fallen to the floor. Marco’s glasses were on the pillow, another book crumpled beneath the covers, and Ace smiled slightly, releasing a sigh. Some things never changed. Marco was forever leaving his glasses to the elements, often accompanied by crumpled books.

“You can climb in if you want,” Marco said, appearing from the bathroom with a yawn. He’d exchanged the robes for underwear, and while Ace had seen Marco in similar dress many times before, and a few times completely naked, his eyes still flickered down in appreciation before his mind caught up with what had been said.

“Um,” he replied elegantly, and Marco smiled, stretching his arms above his head. It was a distracting view, and Ace had come here to be distracted. Even if this wasn’t quite what he had in mind.

“I’m going to climb back in anyway. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious so you might as well just stay the night.” Marco walked over to the bed, taking the side Ace wasn’t standing by. His bed was big enough for them both to sprawl out in, again privileges not everyone received, and Ace admitted defeat.

“I am sorry,” Ace said again, and Marco waved him off. Ace stripped down to his underwear too, clambering in the bed and turning the light off.

For a while, they lay there in silence. It was the first time Ace had shared a bed with anyone except Luffy since he’d joined the Whitebeard Pirates, and Luffy’s post-Marineford circumstance hadn’t exactly been a friendly occasion. Marco shifted, rolling towards Ace, and Ace sighed, knowing he had to say something.

“If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine,” Marco said, voice low and soft. It was a voice Ace knew he reserved for times when they were alone, and Ace’s stomach flipped at the thought of Marco reserving parts of himself just for him.

“If you’d rather just sleep, we can just sleep,” Marco continued, and Ace closed his eyes. He was safe here, he told himself. This was Marco, someone he could depend on and open up to, and he took a deep breath.

“Roger told me how much him and my mother loved me,” he began, covering his face with his hands. If Ace could hide himself, Marco wouldn’t be able to see the way it had bothered him.

“He tried to tell me her death was because of his actions, that he hadn’t done anything, hadn’t done enough and I just… I couldn’t let that slip Marco, I just couldn’t. So I told him the truth, and his face! It was if I’d hit him, as if I’d done the worst thing in the world, and I knew that was it. I’m never going to get over this fear of him, and he’ll be here forever, and I’m fucking stuck in this endless cycle of having him tell me shit and not being able to get him to understand the facts,” Ace rushed out, and his eyes welled with tears of frustration.

It wasn’t fair having Roger here, but of course it had to have happened. Ace had had a good thing going, and the world had to put an end to that.

“What was the truth?” Marco asked, of course he did, and Ace grimaced, hands dropping beside him on the bed.

“That my mother died because I killed her,” he said in an expressionless voice. If Marco tried to twist it, to tell him it wasn’t his fault, just like Roger had, Ace was out of here.

Lying there ready to bolt, Ace didn’t expect the hand that gently took his, fingers slipping between his own. Instinctively, Ace jerked back, head turning to the side to stare at Marco in alarm. Marco’s room didn’t have a window and so he could barely make out the soft look Marco was giving him but it was there all the same.

“Do you think that would matter to your mother if she could be here for a moment?” Marco said, and Ace froze, eyes searching Marco’s. “Even without Roger telling you, you have to know she loved you so much. No one can do what she did and not love the product of her effort,” Marco said with a smile, and Ace looked away frowning.

He knew on some level that his mother had to have loved him. Or the idea of him, Ace compromised. Rouge had no idea what she was getting when he was inside of her, and Ace was sure if she met him she’d change her mind.

“Stop it,” Marco chided, his free hand poking the centre of Ace’s forehead, smoothing the wrinkles there. “Stop trying to convince yourself she’d change her mind if she saw you now. If she was the kind of woman to be able to love the Pirate King, there is no doubt in my mind she would love you unconditionally now.”

Perhaps, Ace thought, and Marco’s hand held tighter.

“It doesn’t matter though,” Marco said. “The past is the past. Roger is a dead man. Who cares if they loved you. You have us now,” Marco finished, and Ace winced.

There was no doubt Marco had intended it to be something healing, a balm that would soothe all of Ace’s worries. Ace had been very good at hiding things until this Roger debacle, and he knew no one was aware of the fact he still worried that one day things were going to change, and he’d be alone. Again.

“Ace,” Marco said, and Ace knew he’d been discovered. There was a change in Marco’s tone, a current of alarm, and Ace took his hand back, rolling so his back was to Marco. It might be easier to talk about if he didn’t have to look at Marco.

“There’s something inside me,” Ace said, one hand clutching the sheets as he curled in on himself. “I am who I am, it’s just the way it is. This is how I was meant to be and how I’ll always be.”

It didn’t matter that Ace didn’t want to stay like this. He wanted to be loved and able to love freely, but how could he? There were iron chains around his heart, and nothing could change that. He was the murderer of his mother, the reason his little brother carried a life-changing scar on his chest, the reason his family had waged war with the world. He’d caused nothing but trouble, and one day they would all see that.

“Hey,” Marco said, and Ace turned his head a little. “I’m a bit of a cuddler, truth be told. May I?”

It was unexpected, a complete change of pace, and Ace nodded, shuffling back until Marco pulled him in, hand around waist and forehead to Ace’s nape. It was so intimate, and every part of Ace’s body that Marco touched exploded, skin tingling. He could feel his worries soothing, drifting to the back of his mind, and Ace sank into the pillows.

“I think I want to sleep now,” Ace said, and Marco hummed against his neck.

“That’s a great idea,” he muttered sleepily, and Ace took the hand resting by his belly. “I’m here when you need me,” Marco added, and Ace nodded.

Ace woke a little later, sleep slipping from his mind as quickly as it had taken him. There was something different, something sparking in the room, and Ace couldn’t put his finger on what had changed. Looking at the clock on the bedside table, Ace could see that they still had three hours or so left before they were due to wake, only an hour from when Ace had shown up at Marco’s door, so there was no reason for the two of them to be up.

There was the sound of water running, and Ace realised Marco was in the bathroom. He considered pretending to be asleep as Marco opened the door and made his way back, but something told Ace not to, and he’d always listened to his gut.

The bed dipped as Marco climbed back in, rolling onto his side straight away with full intention to pull Ace close. He paused, as if remembering who it was, and looked up, blinking as he caught Ace’s gaze.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, and Ace shook his head.

“No, it’s…” Ace trailed off, frowning. He couldn’t describe it when he didn’t know what it was himself, could he?

“Ace?” Marco asked, hands skimming Ace’s waist under the sheets, and a wave of understanding suddenly hit Ace.

How had he been so stupid? All of these years, all this time, and Ace had been so fucking dumb. He connected with Marco because they were good friends and understood each other well, true, but what he’d been feeling lately, the need to go to Marco to understand himself and the want to be around Marco and know more… it wasn’t just friendship. His sly looks and the thoughts in the back of his mind combined with Marco being the only one he wanted to share his darkest secrets with, well.

Marco was attractive, Ace had always known that and he’d been frank about it when the subject had come up in group conversations. He’d admitted many times before that, should he ever have to choose, Marco would be number one. He’d even kissed Marco at a particularly juicy party before, but nothing else had happened, and Ace realised now that he’d  _ wanted  _ it to. That evening had been hell, Ace had drunk so many shots, and it had taken him literally  _ years _ to understand why he’d reacted so sloppily to Marco heading to bed early and sober.

What if that had been a proposition and Ace blew it, he suddenly wondered.

“Ace?” Marco asked again, and Ace shook his head, realising that Marco was now propped up, looking at him in worry. “Are you-“

He paused as Ace’s hand moved up his arm, smoothing over muscle and to Marco’s neck. He was going to give Marco every opportunity to say no, but Ace had to try. His hand cupped the back of Marco’s neck, drawing him down slowly, and there was no way anyone could interpret this as anything other than what it was.

Ace had always known Marco was quick on the uptake, and now was no exception. He moved down slowly, pressing his lips to Ace’s with the delicacy of someone who had wanted this for a long time and couldn’t quite believe it was happening. He pulled back, eyes searching Ace’s, and Ace smiled.

“Marco,” Ace breathed, hand still pressed to the back of Marco’s neck, fingers smoothing the soft skin there. “Please,” he added, and Marco’s eyes lowered to Ace’s lips, moving forwards once again, this time with far more certainty.

It was easy to roll onto his back and pull Marco over him, and Ace wrapped both arms around Marco’s shoulders, drawing him close. They kissed slowly, and one of Marco’s hand slipped between them to curl against Ace’s hip, holding him tightly.

Ace sucked in a deep breath as Marco’s teeth grazed his lip, pulling away with a self-assured smirk. He was confident, and Ace loved it, eyes wide as Marco sat back, straddling Ace’s thighs, soaking in the view.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Marco said softly, his hands falling to his side. “Or how much I’ve wanted this,” he added, and Ace raised an eyebrow, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Come here,” he demanded, and Marco came, moving forwards swiftly. He kissed Ace deeply, and Ace couldn’t think of anyone who had ever done half as much to him as Marco did.

As Marco pulled away, Ace followed him, pressing smaller kisses onto Marco’s lips as his hands moved lower. He could feel Marco through the fabric of his underwear, hot and heavy, and his mouth watered at the thought that, at least for tonight, it was all for him.

There was nothing graceful about the way Marco ground down on him, and Ace sucked in a breath as Marco tilted his head to the side, eyes closing and grin springing to his face at the feeling. He moved again, and Ace shuddered as Marco’s hand slipped down, cupping Ace’s dick through his underwear.

Leaning over him, Marco pressed kisses to Ace’s neck, shifting his hips and his hand in time. Ace’s hand clawed at Marco’s back as he arched up, throwing a leg over Marco’s waist to pull him closer. He couldn’t let Marco do all the work, after all, and he pushed up as Marco moved down, his eyes rolling back as he heard Marco let out a moan.

“Come here,” Ace whispered, caught between a sigh and an exhale. Marco obliged, drawn into Ace’s kiss as their hips rocked. The combination was almost too much, and every time Marco moaned into the kiss, Ace felt himself drawn a little deeper. It should be terrifying, it should be fantastic, it should be everything, and Ace let himself drown in it, relishing in what Marco was making him feel.

It was, to Ace’s surprise, Marco who came first, his entire body stiffening as he moaned into Ace’s cheek. He didn’t pause once though, and Ace gripped him tightly, teeth scraping against Marco’s neck as they shifted and turned, Ace coming sharply.

Marco didn’t move away for a long while, and Ace lay there, lips pressed to the soft skin under his jaw. He didn’t mind the stubble or the taste of sweat, and when Marco did eventually shift back, Ace felt as though he’d lost something.

“Come get cleaned up,” Marco said, slipping from the bed and offering a hand. And while a large part of Ace was content to lay in the bed no matter the mess he’d made, he knew better things awaited in the bathroom.

And anyway. Wherever Marco went, Ace was never really that far behind, was he?

.

“Commander Marco! Commander Marco!” accompanied by the smash of a fist against a wooden door was Ace’s rude wake up call. He stirred, blinking as he sucked in a deep breath, trying to burrow back under the covers as the rest of the bed moved and someone began moving around the room.

Ace opened his eyes quickly, remembering that whoever was outside hadn’t got the wrong door after all. He  _ was  _ in Marco’s room, and despite the threat of the people outside, Ace took a moment to appreciate Marco in full naked glory searching for his robe.

“Hanging on the back of the bathroom door,” Ace offered, voice croaky with the dregs of sleep. Marco shot him a thankful look over his shoulder, darting into the bathroom to dress a little more appropriately for whatever emergency awaited him.

Although it wouldn’t really be an issue if the entire ship found out they’d slept together, Ace made sure he was well and truly tucked up in the bed, even if no one would be able to see him unless they entered the room and took a good step or two inside. He waited, frozen, as Marco opened the door. He didn’t need the entire ship knowing when Ace had no idea himself what this was between him and Marco.

“What’s with all the noise, I was sleeping,” Marco mumbled, and if anyone other than Ace thought he looked particularly shagged, they had the decency not to comment.

“We’ve had a call from one of our allies nearby. They’re asking for you as several of their men were wounded in a small skirmish and have what they call puzzling wounds,” someone said, and Ace felt his stomach drop.

It wasn’t often that Marco was called to other ships as he preferred to stay with Whitebeard and his pupils – it would more often than not be someone from the first division who was sent, with the brilliant teachings of Marco and their own thoughts to combat anything. If someone was asking for Marco himself, the situation had to be grave.

Marco paused for the briefest of moments before he nodded.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll set off. Get me a map and supplies,” Marco said, sending the group that had come to inform him on their way.

Ace watched with interest as Marco shot him a guilty look, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort.

“Hey,” he said eventually, and Ace let out a snort, jerking his head for Marco to come closer. He obliged, as if there was a tether between them that Ace had pulled, and he swooped down for a kiss, fingers brushing Ace’s cheek.

“I have to shower,” Marco said regretfully, shaking his head at the thought Ace was about to suggest. “Alone. And quickly. You can stay here, I’ll leave the spare key out if you want it.”

He left, and Ace watched as Marco shucked a shoulder free of the robe, throwing an awful wink across the room as he entered his bathroom. Ace grinned as the door closed, throwing himself on the bed and pulling the covers up, unable to stop himself. He might not deserve it and he might not understand how, but somehow Ace had snagged Marco, even if it was just for the one night.

And, Ace reasoned with himself, if it was the one night then that as fine. He could deal with that. He was an adult who enjoyed having sex with someone he liked. He was a grown man who could take something and keep it to one night. That was fine.

True to his word, Marco was back out of the bathroom and Ace peeked out of the covers. Marco’s hair plastered to his head, water droplets slowly making their way down his body. He waved a hand in Ace’s direction with his free hand, the other holding a loose towel around his hips.

“I need clothes,” Marco said, and Ace didn’t have to imagine the awkwardness for it to be there. His happiness dulled a little, smile shifting more to a grimace, and he turned his gaze away as Marco returned to the bathroom.

He was fine with it, Ace told himself, rolling from the bed and gathering his clothes. He wanted whatever Marco wanted, it didn’t matter to him. His shoes were the last, and Ace could hear Marco pottering around the bathroom still. He knew he wouldn’t be missed, and so he left, closing the door as softly as he could and heading back to his own room.

It was easier if he just left, Ace figured. The situation was in his hands, decision made, and that was that.

The best bit about it? Ace still had two hours before he needed to get up. He’d sleep off any remaining feelings and that would be that.


	3. Chapter 3

“It seems to me that you’re in a bit of a bind,” Thatch said, watching Deuce’s retreating back with interest before taking the now-empty seat at the table.    
  
“Yeah?” Ace asked, intrigued. Thatch was well known for his hit-and-miss advice, and Ace wondered whether he’d get trussed up by a gentleman who misunderstood what Ace asked for or whether he’d get discounted food.   
  
“Everyone’s noticed, you can tell,” Thatch said, sitting back in his chair in a way Ace knew he was bluffing.   
  
“Rika’s been at you, hasn’t she,” Ace said, raising an eyebrow. He’d kept to his appointment like any good member of the crew did, had the tests and examinations he needed to, even sat perfectly for a vaccine. And yet all his doctor – Rika – had wanted to know at the end was how he felt, and what was getting him down.   
  
And she’d asked if she could try and get Thatch to open up to Ace and whether that would be okay, now that Marco was gone for the foreseeable future, as she knew Thatch and Ace were close.    
  
“No,” Thatch said, rolling his eyes. “Sometimes I notice things. Feelings things.”    
  
Ace laughed, setting his pen down and abandoning the lists he’d been trying to compile.   
  
“Look, it’s not been easy the past month for you. Most of us remember back when Roger was our biggest competition and it hasn’t been easy, so I can’t think of what the adjustment period must be for you.” Thatch paused, tapping his fingers on the table, a tell of his when he was unsettled and unsure. It was sweet that Thatch cared, though Ace didn’t need someone checking in on him really.    
  
“Just if you need to talk, I’ll be happy to listen,” Thatch said, smiling, shifting back around in his chair and leaning across the table.   
  
“But first, you’ll never guess who had to be rescued from the sea this morning after drinking too much and mistaking the deck for their bed?” Thatch said, and Ace shrugged, engaging to lose himself in mindless gossip.   
  
He was approached a few times, and Ace considered that perhaps he was a little more down than usual after Whitebeard’s comment. It had been in passing, to Roger of all people, as Ace had trekked across the deck.   
  
“He’s just running low because Marco’s off ship,” was all Whitebeard had said, but it rooted inside of Ace, clinging around his thoughts.   
  
It didn’t mean anything. It shouldn’t mean anything, Ace repeated to himself that night, lying in bed. He was fully clothed, on top of the covers, and Ace sighed loudly. What was wrong with him?   
  
He sat up, looking at the wall in front of him. It wasn’t as if Marco was in trouble or danger or anything like that. He’d gone on a small trip, which he did frequently, and Ace wondered if he’d become too dependent. He’d never been in this situation before; Luffy had always depended on Ace, and no one else had ever come close.    
  
With Marco, things were easier. Life ran a little smoother, a little brighter, a little happier even. Marco was always there, whether Ace needed him or he needed Ace for something. He’d always been there from the start, the one to breach the void Ace had created and the one to stand by his side through thick and thin.   
  
It had been Marco that Ace had confessed his Marineford fears to, as they’d sailed away from Amazon Lily. He’d listened as Ace had confessed he was weak, that he’d almost gotten himself and Luffy killed, that they shouldn’t have risked everything just for him. Marco hadn’t said much that night, sitting and listening, and Ace had returned to the open seas with the storm inside of him tempered.    
  
Now Ace had to deal with Roger and Marco. He’d thought visiting Marco might clear his head that night, but it seemed as though Ace had made things far more complicated for himself. Not that he regretted it, of course, Ace would never regret that night so long as he lived, but it would impact how he interacted with Marco. And, apparently, how he acted when Marco wasn’t here.   
  
There was a soft knock on the door, and Ace frowned. He walked over, heart beating in his chest. Could it be Marco? Perhaps he’d finished early and returned, though Ace thought it unlikely. Even so, he couldn’t control his reaction, and when he opened the door to find Roger there, his expression soured.   
  
“I wondered,” Roger began, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, grinning at Ace. “Tomorrow we’re to hit an island late afternoon. I was hoping you’d come to town with me, for food. And to talk a bit more.”   
  
He nodded, as if trying to remember whether he’d said all that needed to be said, and Ace felt a fond stir inside of him. Regardless of what his mind said, there was a connection between him and Roger, and Ace only found more and more similarities the more he looked. He even reminded Ace of Luffy, and everyone who spent a minute of their time in Ace’s presence knew how much he adored his little brother. He didn’t have the energy to worry about it right now, and so it was easy for him to agree to Roger’s request.   
  
“Alright then,” Roger replied, nodding. “I’ll see you when we hit land.”   
  
It was awkward and so unlike everything Ace had ever imagined of his father. He watched Roger walk back the way he came, mystified, and only returned to his room when he heard someone else down the corridor make their way to the bathroom.   
  
What were they going to talk about? Ace had no idea how much Roger knew about his past or if he understood how much Ace really did hate him. It wasn’t ideal dinner conversation, and Ace rolled his eyes. Things never got easier. There was always something, Ace knew, and he wondered why it all had to happen to him.   
  
.   
  
As promised, Roger was waiting for Ace by one of the ladders to the rowboats. They were to head across to the nearest beach in batches, a skeleton crew sticking behind to guard the ship. Whitebeard was to stay too, mumbling about peace and quiet, and Ace knew without a doubt he’d be on the island later, in the largest tavern drinking and gambling the night away.    
  
“Right,” Ace said quietly, coming to a standstill beside Roger. He refused to look at Roger, instead nodding to the curious glances around them.   
  
By now, those who hadn’t known of Ace’s connection to Roger could guess. The resemblance was clear, Roger hadn’t been quiet about Rouge’s name and relationship to him, and while Ace had never heard him speaking about Ace as a relation, it wasn’t an absurd thought. Strangely, it didn’t panic Ace as it might have a few weeks ago, though he didn’t particularly want to linger on that thought much longer than he had to.   
  
“I’ve never been here before,” Roger said politely, engaging someone from the third division in conversation. They’d been here many times before and were busy giving Roger suggestions on where to go as they climbed onto the rowboats.   
  
“Somewhere quiet,” Roger said, sitting down next to Ace. “With plenty of food,” he added, and Ace smiled, looking out at sea as the boat moved off.   
  
The large majority of the crew began to siphon off to the local town, where a Whitebeard Pirate flag flew proudly, visible from here even through the palm trees. It was a beautiful island and others were busy making camp on the beach, a popular way for them to spend their time on land, and Ace saw a few people making secluded camps with small groups or pairs, couples spending quality time together.   
  
Something twinged in Ace’s gut and he looked away from the beach, banishing all thoughts of Marco from his mind. He’d never have something like that with Marco, who was he kidding.   
  
“We should expect amazing fish,” Roger piped up as they joined the group moving towards the town. “Which is a bit of a no brainer really, isn’t it. Every fishing town has amazing fish dishes.”   
  
Ace nodded, glancing at Roger as they walked. While Ace had shoved a shirt over his shoulders in one of his few trademark looks, Roger had foregone anything that could have identified him. He wore a loose, white shirt and trousers that were better suited for a gentleman of leisure. Everything was casual, relaxed, the opposite of everything Ace knew.   
  
Perhaps, as many people had told him, he didn’t know much about Roger at all.   
  
Ace let Roger direct them through town, marvelling at the small alleyways and sprawling buildings. This town was old, that was for sure, and it oozed character. It was charming, and Ace could understand everyone’s excitement at visiting it.    
  
They kept to small talk and idle ship gossip as they walked towards a small restaurant Roger had picked for them. It didn’t take long – thankfully, as Ace wasn’t sure how long he could handle discussing what the weather was supposed to do for much longer – and they ordered quickly, settling back in silence, overlooking the harbour.   
  
“I want to learn more about you,” Roger said, breaking their fragile truce. “All I really know is you were born, became a first-class pirate, ended up in a war and then, well, ended up stuck with me.”   
  
Again there was the look in Roger’s eye as if he wanted to understand, that he really cared, and Ace shifted, shrugging. It wasn’t easy to open himself to anyone.   
  
“Garp – he raised you?” Roger said, and questions were much easier to deal with.   
  
It was strangely effortless to talk about his past with Roger’s questions. He spoke about Dadan, Garp, Foosha, Luffy and Sabo. It was easy to keep it flowing, and Roger was so attentive. He cared, Ace thought, and he paused as their food arrived.    
  
“It wasn’t all good,” he admitted, and Roger snorted.   
  
“You’ve got your troublemaking streak from me, of course it wasn’t all good. Combine that with your mother’s temper, I bet you caused all sort of fights.” Roger took a sip of his drink, hastening to add, “And won them, of course.”   
  
The mention that Ace got something from Roger didn’t feel terrible. Even the mention of Rouge didn’t hurt, and Ace nodded.    
  
“Everyone was glad you were dead. I’ve always known the marines wanted me dead, Jii-chan made no effort to hide that. It wasn’t just them though,” Ace said, looking down. “Everyone. It was everyone. They said a child…”   
  
Ace swallowed thickly, spearing some steak on his fork and taking a moment. It was a pain he hadn’t revisited in a long while. Marineford and the aftermath had been low, so low that Ace had no idea how he wasn’t still suffering with crippling self doubt. He had his fair share, of course, but he was also able to enjoy himself and put his heart into his good days.   
  
Back before Luffy and Sabo, there had been no good days. Even after they came into his life, there had been plenty of bad days. It was a part of Ace, but he tried not to think about it.   
  
“They said the Pirate King’s child deserved to die.” Ace shrugged. “I guess it fucked me up a bit, hearing that again and again as a kid, but it is what it is.”   
  
Cutlery clattered to the table and Ace watched Roger cross his arms, thunderous look on his face.    
  
“Do you know how many people I’ve met who have suffered through what you have?” he asked, and Ace shook his head slowly, a little unsure where this was headed. “Not many, Ace. And do you know how many people wear their suffering like a badge of pride, exploiting it and twisting themselves into something nasty and rotten? Too many. Far too many.”   
  
Roger let his arms fall to the table, leaning in towards Ace.    
  
“What you don’t seem to fully realise is that you are kind. You are strong and deserving, and if you don’t believe me, I don’t care. People have victimised you your entire life, and you’re here. Like it or not, you have my blood running through your veins and the world knows that.” Roger’s eyes were wide, crinkled with joy.   
  
“You’re here, Ace. Against all the odds, you made it. You made it even though you have me for a father.” Roger sat back, shaking his head, smile still in place. “I wondered, you know, when I was up on that platform, facing the end. I wondered what kind of person my child would be. You have surpassed anything I could have hoped for, and you’re still growing.”   
  
Ace gritted his jaw, a flush on his cheeks at the praise.    
  
“Nothing I say will make things change in an instant, but I hope maybe you’ll realise, even with someone like me for a father, you’re worthy.” Roger closed his eyes, smiling. “Now tell me how you got that devil’s fruit, I haven’t heard that yet.”   
  
A man didn’t become the Pirate King without being clever in some way, shape or form, and Roger was certainly that. His outward personality was similar to Luffy’s, and he was certainly carefree, but he was an intelligent and cunning man. It wasn’t hard to see how his enemies hated him to the core.    
  
After their meal, Roger took them out to the harbour, detailing some of the more relaxed adventures his own crew had gone on. Ace listened in wonder, excitement pounding in his chest at the thought that there was still so much of the world he had yet to come across, even as a member of the Whitebeard Pirates.   
  
“And when you’re there, there’s these old tar pits, and you know how some people can be. Someone decided it would be great fun to explore the area, right,” Roger was saying, the sea spray of the high tide catching them as waves hit the harbour wall. Ace smiled, having no doubt that it was Roger himself who suggested the exploration in his story. “Ray ended up waist deep in the tar, no joke, and it took three hours to pull him out. We ended up camping there as the crew took turns trying to get him out.”   
  
Roger laughed, the sound mingling with the crashing of waves, and Ace felt warmth in his chest. He breathed in the scent of the sea and looked up, to the freedom of the sky and the horizon.   
  
“You know Ace,” Roger said, leaning over the railing. The wind caught Ace’s hair, blurring his vision as he turned to face Roger. “You stopped being scared of me a long time ago.”   


Ace smiled and looked out to sea. Of course he had. He hadn’t been scared of Roger since he’d told Ace it was Rouge’s birthday, so silent and still in the crow’s nest. Roger had been a human then for the first time in Ace’s eyes, even if he hadn’t liked the way the conversation had developed.   
  
“It was never you I was scared of,” Ace admitted. He’d always known it, truthfully, and he rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. Roger waited patiently, though Ace knew he was bubbling to ask what Ace had figured out.  
  
“It’s love,” Ace said, and it was easy. It was easy to share himself with Roger now, so easy. “Deep down I never believed anyone could ever love me. I thought that everything was a lie and one day everyone would wake up and see who I really was, and that would be it. I’m not scared of loving people, not when Luffy and the Whitebeard pirates are in my life, but love isn’t a one-sided deal.”  
  
“You really are my son,” Roger said with a sigh, and Ace turned to him sharply, mock-outrage on his face. He didn’t feel horrified at the use of the word son, and Ace knew he’d miss Roger in some way when he did finally go.  
  
“Ray used to tell me I worked myself up over nothing,” Roger said, grinning. “It wasn’t nothing, and I’m not saying that’s how it is for you, but what he meant was I avoided the actual issue by making it more complicated.”  
  
“Have you ever…” Ace paused, unsure how to word what he wanted to say. “It’s like there’s a darkness that lives inside of me. Is that… did you…”  
  
“I don’t know about any darkness,” Roger began, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But I had moments where I felt as if I was dragged to the bottom of the ocean and nothing could pull me out. I had to pull myself out to become the best I could be, and it wasn’t easy, I died for it, but I stayed true to who I wanted to be.”  
  
“You lived a life with no regrets,” Ace mumbled, starting as Roger made a noise of disagreement.  
  
“There was one regret,” he said, and his eyes were warm as he looked at Ace, so full of love and pride, and Ace quickly looked away.  
  
“Thanks,” Ace replied, and Roger nodded, moving away from the railing to wander back to the beach they docked at. Ace joined him, walking in a comfortable silence. They didn’t need to say anything more, and Ace felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest.   
  
In another world, they might have gotten along. In another world, Roger might have made an amazing father, and Ace would have become a wanted man with a happy childhood. In another world, Rouge might have lived, and things would have been so different.  
  
This was never going to be anything close to those worlds, and while Ace and Roger had reached an understanding, Ace knew he had to go. For closure, Ace needed Roger out of his life. He had his family, had a father he wanted, and had no room for Roger.  
  
It had been nice, healing in many ways, and Ace though that he would miss Roger.   
  
“I think I’ll be going soon,” Roger said, resting a hand on a palm tree as they drew close to the edge of the treeline. There were loud celebrations going on down below, people running the length of the beach, swimming, drinking, enjoying their lives in the glow of the sunset, and Ace felt a twinge of longing in his gut.   
  
“It was never about me, and now I’ve done what I was apparently meant to do, I think this is it for me.” Roger looked to Ace, eyes bright with tears. “And I am so grateful.”  
  
Ace knew his issues weren’t fixed just from a few weeks and conversations with Roger, but he felt sorrow well inside of him at the thought this was it for them. There was so much he could learn, so much he could share, and Ace bit his lip, sniffing as he felt tears prick at his eyes.  
  
In an instant, Roger’s arms were around him, holding Ace close to his chest. He was broad, engulfing Ace entirely, and Ace didn’t hesitate to hug Roger back. It would be the first and last time, he could do that much.  
  
“I’m sorry for the darkness and the persecution. I put you through so much and you’ve never deserved any of it. I wanted to thank you for letting me into your life.” Roger sniffed loudly in his ear, pulling back. Ace wiped at his own cheeks, smiling as Roger’s arms fell to his side.  
  
“When your brother becomes the Pirate King, make sure you toast him from me,” Roger said, and Ace laughed. He felt free.  
  
“Thank you,” Ace said, and Roger nodded, turning to join the crew on the beach.  
  
Roger hadn’t saved Ace from his darkness or anything remotely close to it. Ace knew he still had to face up to his fears, and perhaps they would never ever go away, but that was okay. He was here, he had a purpose, and despite what his darkness wanted him to think, he loved and was loved in return.  
  
He watched Roger run down the dunes to join Whitebeard, waving his arms and shouting something indecipherable. The group cheered as Roger tripped and fell, and Ace went to join them.   
  
Bigger, better things awaited, and Ace couldn’t wait to get started.  
  
.  


Ace wasn’t there when it happened, but Whitebeard was.   
  
“It was very peaceful,” Whitebeard said, sitting on deck. The ship was unnaturally quiet, only a few people milling about here and there, the rest still celebrating on the beach. Ace still wasn’t very clear on what the celebrations were about now, and a large majority had fallen asleep as the sun rose.   
  
“He asked me to tell you he loved you, so for old times’ sake, there it is.” Whitebeard grinned. “We all love you, my son,” Whitebeard added, and Ace looked at him.  
  
“I’m happy,” he admitted, the weight of ages lifted from his shoulders. “I feel good.”  
  
They ate together, Ace catching Whitebeard up on some of the more subtle gossip that had been running around last night, and Whitebeard blinked, shaking his head.  
  
“You youngsters,” he commented, eyeing Nurse Ame warily as she presented his morning medication. “Good morning,” Whitebeard said warily, and Ame rolled her eyes.  
  
“You’ve been on your best behaviour, Oyaji,” she said, winking at Ace. “And Marco left me orders not to wind you up too much. You have an appointment this afternoon with Rika,” Ame continued, and Ace’s mind wandered to thoughts of Marco.   
  
He was excited to see Marco again, truth be told. While Ace had told himself he’d be happy not pursuing anything with Marco, his mind had been made up long ago. He was as thick headed as Luffy was sometimes.  
  
“Oyaji,” Ace said suddenly, wanting to blurt it out before he thought too damned much about it and never spoke about it. “Can you recommend any good places to take someone on a date? I’m going to ask Marco out.”  
  
Ignoring the way Ame stilled and turned with wide eyes, Ace focused on Whitebeard’s broad smile and booming laugh.  
  
“What are you doing asking an old man about things you kids know,” he said, laughing still. “It’s about time,” Whitebeard said, eyes twinkling as he glanced at Ame. She was smiling, not even trying to hide it, and gave him a thumbs up.  
  
Even with his ideas, Ace still had to wait for Marco to return. It was a further week and a half of pent-up-normalcy, Ace itching for anything to happen. Usually they couldn’t go a week without an incident, but it seemed like they’d had a slow month and Ace was tired of it.  
  
“I want to destroy someone,” Ace said, head on the table while the group around him continued to eat. He’d fallen asleep, headfirst into his rice, and felt very little motivation to move when woken up.  
  
“I know someone you could destroy,” Thatch muttered, and Ace ignored the titters around the table. He’d never really clocked the comments everyone made about him and Marco, but now Ace had his mind switched on, it really was obvious. Had they been that obvious?  
  
“An enemy would be great about now,” Ace continued, sitting up with a dramatic sigh and brushing rice from his cheek. He should have gone for the pasta, much less mess to clean.  
  
He was about to launch into a long rant about how the marines had awful timing when the door to the food hall opened, someone walking in slowly. It wasn’t anything special, lots of people walked in at various times of the day, but Ace instantly knew.  
  
Turning, Ace saw Marco tiredly greeting a handful of people, making his way across the room towards Whitebeard’s table. He waved a hand in Ace’s direction, and Ace span back around, smiling down at his plate.  
  
“Excuse me,” he said, and ignored Thatch’s barely covered comments as he picked his plate and cup up and headed over to join Marco and Whitebeard. It was eager, true, but it was also what Ace would have done anyway. He was known as a table hopper, migrating through the room on a food voyage, yet somehow almost always ended his meals with Marco.  
  
“I’ve managed to put it in a vaccine form,” Marco was saying, and Ace noticed his cheeks were pink and nose running. He sniffed, words thick as he continued. “Gave me a bit of trouble, but no fatalities. I’d like to send some medics over to be sure, and to train their doctors, but I think we’re all settled.”  
  
Marco sniffed again, and Ace knew he was in deep when he didn’t consider it even a little gross. Okay he thought it was pretty gross, but he was happier to see Marco he could pretend he didn’t care about his gross illness.  
  
“And the cold?” Whitebeard asked, and Marco shrugged half-heartedly.  
  
“I tried the vaccine on myself. It’s pretty potent but I wanted to add it to my natural defences.” Ace nodded, understanding Marco’s need to protect himself even though he had his devil fruit powers. They’d learnt a lot of lessons at Marineford, and Marco had been made extremely aware of his mortality and vulnerability.   
  
“In that case, eat up!” Whitebeard said, and Marco nodded, standing to grab some food. As he went, Ace could feel Whitebeard staring at him, and he looked down at his plate innocently.   
  
“Could use someone to look after him in that state,” Whitebeard said, a twitch at the corners of his mouth. Ace nodded.  
  
“I suppose I could offer my services,” he contemplated, and Whitebeard took a deep sip of his drink.   
  
“I guess the most obvious change is that Roger isn’t here anymore,” Marco said as he came back, plate laden with bland side orders. “I can’t taste anything, no point wasting good food on me,” he said to Ace’s stare, and Ace frowned.   
  
“He vanished a while ago,” Whitebeard said, and Ace blinked, trying not to think about the tragedy that was being ill and unable to eat tasty food. “We’ve done alright without you,” Whitebeard added cheekily, and Marco’s laughter dissolved into a chesty cough.  
  
They caught Marco up on the latest news as best they could, a few of the first division coming to join them. Thatch and Vista made the journey over too, and Ace couldn’t even drum up the energy to be ashamed of how happy he was Marco was back.  
  
“I’m going to bed,” Marco announced a little later, the conversation lulling to discuss a few bets the crew had running at the moment. “I have something to ask you though, Ace, would you mind?”  
  
Ace ignored the group of suddenly very interested people in favour of nodding and standing up to follow. They walked through the food hall and out on deck, Marco snuffling and groaning at how gross being ill was.   
  
“I should be back to normal tomorrow, the important bits have run their course,” Marco said, eyes half closed as they wandered towards his room.   
  
“Sure,” Ace agreed, fingers brushing Marco’s as they walked side by side. His heart was racing, ridiculous smile on his face, and Ace felt that it was a very possible future that he would combust due to happiness.   
  
There was a small, tiny, insignificant part of him that wondered why Marco would accept their relationship. He bit that voice down, forcing it to join the darkness he’d worked so hard to push back. If Marco didn’t want him then fine, Ace would have to deal with that, but he hadn’t even tried yet.   
  
“Come in, come in,” Marco said as they reached his door. It was the same as he’d left it – Ace hadn’t had the heart to return here without Marco. “Home sweet home,” Marco continued, flopping straight onto the bed on his stomach. He took a moment and then sighed, rolling onto his back, feet resting on the floor.   
  
“I was really happy to see you again,” Marco said, and Ace walked forwards, coming to lie on the bed, stomach first.   
  
“Stop talking,” he said, and Marco looked at him in alarm. “I wanted to go first,” Ace continued, and Marco frowned. This close, Ace could see the dark circles around his eyes and the exhaustion settled on his brow. It made Ace want to kiss him, and he rested his cheek on a hand, smiling down at Marco.  
  
“What?” Marco asked, voice softening from alarm to something warm and loving. “Ace? What it is?”  
  
“I asked Oyaji where to take you on a date,” he said, bursting into laughter as Marco’s eyes widened in alarm. He sat up, taller than Ace, looking at him as if Ace were crazy.  
  
“You did what?” Marco asked, voice higher than usual. “Ace, you better be joking, I love him but there’s no way I want him knowing about my boyfriend, and you know what he’s like, he’s going to be an absolute dick with the teasing-“  
  
Marco broke off as Ace’s smile widened. Shock had flowed through him at Marco’s use of the word boyfriend, and he saw the exact moment Marco had twigged what he said.  
  
“I’m not joking,” Ace offered, grinning as Marco fell back on the bed, covering his eyes with an arm and groaning. “I want to take my boyfriend out.”  
  
Marco’s arm fell from his face and he stared at Ace, eyes narrowing.  
  
“I’ve felt too many things in too few seconds, Ace get out the way I need to go to the bathroom and blow my nose.” Despite his words, Marco made no move, hands creeping towards Ace instead, itching to pull him down.   
  
Obliging merrily, Ace leant down, kissing Marco soundly. It was a little wet, and when he pulled away Marco sucked in a deep breath, frowning and wrinkling his nose.  
  
“I really do need to blow my nose,” he said, and Ace let him dash to the bathroom, the sound of a hearty nose blow following.  
  
“What was it you wanted to ask me?” Ace asked as he returned, making quick work of taking his shoes off as he noted Marco had stripped to his underwear. Marco nodded to the bed, climbing in his side as Ace stripped.   
  
“What do you think genius,” Marco said, grunting as he shifted in bed, trying to find a position that was comfortable and allowed him to breath. Ace climbed in too, rolling on his side to face Marco. “Of course it was, I wanted to ask before I left but ran out of time,” Marco said, tentative and soft.   
  
“I’m not always going to be an easy person,” Ace said, and Marco snorted.  
  
“Ace, you’ve never been an easy person, but that hasn’t stopped me from falling in love with you.” Marco closed his eyes, and Ace watched him for a moment, marvelling at Marco’s very existence.   
  
“Roger exposed a little bit of what scares you, but I’d be an idiot to think you were able to heal everything from that small encounter.” Marco opened his eyes, catching one of Ace’s hands and threading their fingers. “I love you, fears and loves and all.”  
  
“You’re disgusting,” Ace mumbled, moving in all the same to press a gentle kiss to Marco’s lips. “And I know I’ll doubt it some days, but I love you. With all my heart. I’m just not very good at accepting it.”  
  
Ace’s reply was a mumble, and then a snore. He let out a huff of laughter, not surprised Marco had fallen asleep, and leant over Marco to turn the light off. They’d likely wake in a few hours, but Ace didn’t want to move. He’d never been so happy to be pressed against a snoring Marco before, and Ace closed his eyes, smiling as he thought of what tomorrow could bring.  
  
.  


 

“I’m serious though, this jellyfish was like 20 times bigger than the biggest one we caught, and even then I just saw its head. Who knows what the tentacles added!” Thatch was saying, and Ace rolled his eyes. It was the jellyfish story all over again, only for Marco’s ears this time, and Ace tapped Thatch’s shoulder as he sat down next to him.  
  
“Stop exaggerating,” he said, raising an eyebrow and throwing a smirk Marco’s way. Ace was just saying it to rile Thatch up, and it was a ridiculous amount of fun.  
  
“I’m not exaggerating, Marco, please believe me!” Thatch pleaded, and Marco’s foot tapped against Ace’s shin under the table.   
  
“Of course,” Marco said diplomatically, and Thatch rolled his eyes.  
  
“Great, now he doesn’t believe me. Ace! You ruined it!” he said, turning to Ace, and Ace laughed, stealing a slice of meat from Thatch’s plate as he moaned about his ridiculously big jellyfish.  
  
“Oi, stop it. I know you two are headed out this evening, you can’t fool me. Some of us drew guard duty so let me have my pork,” Thatch said, sliding his plate out of reach. “Where did you guys decide on in the end?”  
  
“All you can eat buffet,” Marco said, foot rubbing the side of Ace’s leg. “I have money on the restaurant having more food than Ace can handle. If Ace eats it all, he wins.”  
  
Ace nodded sagely as Thatch laughed, waving them off.   
  
“Get out of here then,” he said, and Ace stood. “Go and be happy, eat a lobster and think of me, bone in a shady hotel room – just have fun!”  
  
Ace knew his relationship with Marco wouldn’t always be easy, but there was something he’d come to realise in his time with Roger. People were always going to love him, whether Ace wanted them to or not. Others had no say in whether Ace loved them or not, and he was arrogant to try and demand the opposite of people who loved him. Ace didn’t get to make all the choices, and sometimes that was okay.  


As they reached the edge of the boat, Marco turned. They’d planned to fly over, and Ace watched him shift, skin bursting into flame and settling down as feathers. He was beautiful, and as Marco swung his head around to look at Ace, he grinned, stomach twisting with excitement before they’d even got off of the ground.  
  
He’d always been lucky, and having Marco love him romantically was an unexpected adventure, one he was excited for.  Ace was loved, and for the first time he accepted it and believed it, in all its shapes and forms.  


 

.

 

[extra]

 

"So," Thatch said, throwing his playing cards down and thumping his palms on the table. "How long until they bang?"

There were a few groans around the table, but for the most part Thatch's words had inspired excitement. They'd all been sharing comments on how long it would take Marco and Ace to get together, and now that it had finally happened, it seemed a shame to waste this perfect opportunity to earn a bit of spending money.

"Three days," Vista said, thumping the table with the side of his fist, solidifying his bet. "A hundred beli from you all to whoever wins."

The bet was taken up, and the room was soon full of people shouting, organising bets and handing their money into someone's hat. 

In the corner, half-hidden in the darkness, Kotatsu watched with a sleepy smile, waiting until the pot would reach its maximum. That many belis could buy him a fair amount of meat, and he had the knowledge he needed to win this bet, even if he'd had to suffer through a few nights looking for a new sleeping place rather than in Marco's wardrobe. 

His tail twitched and Kotatsu stood, yawning. Humans were nice and simple, he thought, resting his front paws on the table, preparing to communicate his guess as best he could. He caught Thatch's eye and grinned, licking his lips at the thought of all the meat he was going to get.

Just another day on the Moby Dick!


End file.
